"I never," whispered Sir George, "knew what enjoyment was till this moment."
"A very pretty piece of flattery," replied Henrietta, trying to laugh it off; "but not true."
"You feel it to be true," replied he: "I cannot talk to you as I do to other women."
Ah, how subtle is the flattery which at once separates you from the rest of your sex!
"Do you know," continued he, "I sometimes think I fear you?"
"Fear me!" exclaimed Lady Marchmont.
"Yes," returned he, in a low, earnest tone: "or, rather, I should fear you, did I not see how different you are to the gay, the careless triflers around you. Do you think that I could talk to Lady Mary as I talk to you?—she would not understand me."
"Yet, how clever she is!" replied Lady Marchmont.
"And so are you," continued her companion; "but you have, what she has not, a heart—a heart full of all high and kindly qualities."
